can stop for a drink,” she said. “I don’t want to be out late, that’s all.”
He took her elbow, and she tensed as if she might shake his hand loose although she did not. They made their way into the club, where hot salsa music accompanied scantily clad bodies gyrating on a minuscule dance floor. Karma slid into a booth, and he slid in beside her.
“How do you know so much about all this chakra stuff, anyway?” he asked her after they’d ordered drinks.
She smiled at the waiter as he slid her glass of white wine toward her. “I guess you could say I was born into the territory. My parents met on a commune in the late sixties. My sisters and I were raised on soybeans, sprouts, tofu and a lot of other things that you’ve probably never heard of. Chakras, yoga, the freedom to be you and me, and so on. Commune life ended when we all had to go to school and they moved us to Connecticut where my father got a job in an aircraft factory.”
“That sounds normal enough,” he allowed.
“Oh, but there’s more. Life in suburbia was modified by my parents’ history. Jewish woman married to an Irish Catholic and spending their marriage’s first years grubbing around in an organic garden equals not just your ordinary family.”
“Are your sisters like you? Do they have unusual names like yours?”
“My oldest sister is named Azure, the youngest one is Isis, and the middle one is Mary Beth.”
“Karma, Azure, Isis, and Mary Beth?” he said, smothering a chuckle at the incongruity of it.
Karma picked up on his amusement. “Go ahead. Laugh if you want to. We’re used to it.”
“Where did the Mary Beth come from?”
“Mary Beth was named after the midwife who rode five miles on a snowmobile to deliver her. Consequently, Mary Beth has always considered herself lucky that she was born in the middle of the worst winter storm to hit upstate New York in twenty-three years.”
“Are their occupations as interesting as yours?”
“Isis is married to a dentist and they’re raising his three sons by his first wife, all model students and soccer enthusiasts. Azure is a management consultant based in Boston. Mary Beth is a rabbi. I love to ride by her synagogue and see ‘Mary Beth O’Connor, Assistant Rabbi’ on the sign outside. I imagine that the unexpected juxtaposition of our Irish surname to the title of assistant rabbi merits a few second glances from passersby.” Karma grinned.
Slade laughed. He couldn’t help but be charmed by this woman with her tumultuous hair, offbeat personality, and unusual background. It occurred to him that he hadn’t met an interesting woman in ages. Years. It was why he had come to Miami Beach. It was why he had signed up with a dating service.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’d say we’ve pretty much covered that during the interview.”
“Not about your childhood. Or your family,” she pointed out.
Slade took a sip of his beer before answering. “Grew up in Okeechobee City, went to college, worked the rodeo circuit for a while and eventually came back to run the family ranch. My dad is ready to retire from ranching. He and Ma can’t wait until I come home with my fiancée so they can do some traveling.”
“This fiancée you hope to find,” Karma said carefully. “Do your parents have right of refusal? I mean, what if they don’t like her?”
“They’ll like anybody who decides to put up with me. They’re so eager for a daughter-in-law that they’d accept the bride of Frankenstein if she’d marry me.”
“I hope I can do better for you than that,” Karma said seriously.
He was about to say, I hope you can, too. However, he looked at Karma, really looked at her in that moment, and something in her expression made him bite back the words. He thought she looked regretful, even a trifle upset.
“Now about the way I move,” he said after they had watched the dancers for several minutes. “Why don’t you let me show you that I know how?”
She regarded him with a puzzled expression. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s dance. In the interest of freeing up my chakra, of course.”
“Don’t make fun of it,” Karma said sharply. “If you don’t believe in the theory, fine. Lots of people do, that’s all.”
“I guess I need to know more about it before I make up my mind. But for now, what about dancing?”
Karma bit her lip. “Well,” she said. “I was thinking it was time for me to go home.”
“You won’t turn into a pumpkin, Cinderella. Humor me.”
“Any reason why I should? You’re my client. I’m not supposed to—”
“But that’s exactly the point. I am your client.”
“I should be finding the perfect date for you. I shouldn’t be out having a good time and forgetting that this is a business relationship.” She seemed troubled.
“Are you having a good time, Karma?” he asked softly, letting the words sink in. Because I am, too. I’d have a better time if you’d dance with me.”
After a moment’s hesitation during which Karma seemed to weigh the pros and cons, the pros must have won out. She got up and Slade followed her onto the crowded dance floor. No sooner did they get there than the song that was playing stopped and segued into a smooth ballad.
He took her in his arms, liking the solid feel of her, liking the way she melted into him. She was lighter on her feet than he would have expected, and he led her to the center of the floor where lights from a revolving glass ball overhead played across her features.
“So, Karma, tell me—do I move all right?” he asked after they’d been at it for a few minutes. He was teasing her to see what she’d say.
He expected a saucy retort, maybe a challenge. But she surprised him. “Oh, yes,” she murmured.
“So do you. But in case I don’t express myself enough to bring my most repressed feelings out into the open, what should I do?”
“Our previous discussions make me suspect that this is an insincere question.”
“Insincere is as insincere does,” he said.
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I asked for advice, and if I take it, you’ll know that I’m far more interested than I’ve let on.”
“This is a verbal sparring contest.”
He tightened his arm around her waist. “At the moment, it’s more physical than verbal as far as I’m concerned.”
“Yikes,” was Karma’s inelegant remark. “Double yikes.”
“So?”
“Well,
